


heavy

by glitterfox19



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (kinda), Getting Together, Holding Hands, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterfox19/pseuds/glitterfox19
Summary: The weight, the tension, the thickness between them - Kei is not a fool. It’s been there for quite some time now.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	heavy

Kei feels rather than hears the door to his room open. He doesn’t look up from his computer or take off his headphones. Yamaguchi will understand what that means. Instead, he lets himself sink deeper into the song, his fingers tapping out the melody that the guitar strings sing.

Yamaguchi sits on the side of his bed, his socked feet kicking back and forth. His oldest (only) (well, he’s not so sure if the Karasuno volleyball club would let him say that anymore) friend grins back at him, his eyes squeezing shut with the force of it. Kei wants to smile back, but every square inch of his skin feels denser than it should. He nods instead. 

The song fades out and starts again. Kei folds his arms on the desk and rests his forehead against them, taking in a deep breath. He wants to shed his skin like the lizards he loves, scrub it off and trade it in for something else. He’s so tired of this body, the way his legs are growing too fast for his skin to keep up, evident by the thin lines left behind.

Something settles in the center of his back. Yamaguchi’s palm. It lays flat for a moment before moving in slow circles, alternating between his two shoulders. Kei sucks in a breath and releases it slowly. Tension trickles out from his chest, from his fingers, from his skin. Yamaguchi adds pressure, the heel of his hand digging into where the muscles hurt the most. Kei is featherlight now. He tugs off the headphones.

Yamaguchi leans over one shoulder, leaving his hand stationary on Kei’s right shoulder. “Hi, Tsukki,” he says, his voice soft, reverent. “How are you feeling?”

Kei grunts. Words escape him. He’s not sure he’s in his body anymore; he feels as though he’s floating a few inches above it, and Yamaguchi’s hand is the only thing keeping his spirit tethered. Not in a ball-and-chain sense, but like a dependable root of a sturdy tree. 

“You missed Hinata saying the silliest thing in practice. It would’ve made you laugh so hard if you’d heard it.” Kei lets Yamaguchi’s voice wash over him. His words wiggle into Kei’s mouth, curl around his fingers, pile up in the center of his chest, warm and heavy and cozy. At the end of the story, his mouth is quirking up. 

“Do you want to watch something?” Kei asks, his voice catching in his throat. Yamaguchi straightens up and claps his hands together, bringing them up to his mouth to cover his enthusiastic smile. “Akiteru gave me a nature doc that we can watch on my computer.” He clears his throat. “If you want.” He misses Yamaguchi’s hand between his shoulder blades. 

“Of course!” They sit too close together on the bed. Yamaguchi’s bare ankle is searing hot against Kei’s. Yamaguchi leans his head against Kei’s shoulder. His hair falls over his face, obscuring his eyes. Kei moves his hand under his own thigh. It twitches despite being trapped, wanting to brush his friend’s bangs away. It yearns to touch the freckles under Yamaguchi’s eyes, to pull back his lower lip to reveal the soft flesh inside his mouth.

Yamaguchi offers commentary on the animals on-screen, cheering when the prey manages to escape hungry predators and appreciating the pretty colors of a particular species. Kei shakes off the wet cotton enshrouding his thoughts and manages to make fun of the gait of a funny-looking bird, comparing it to one of the Shiratorizawa players. It makes Yamaguchi laugh so hard that he needs to clutch his sides. He unbalances and lands in Kei’s lap. He looks up at Kei, his nose scrunched from the force of his laughter.

Kei couldn’t laugh if he tried. He’s not sure he knows how to anymore.

He is never one for impulse. The weight, the tension, the thickness between them - Kei is not a fool. It’s been there for quite some time now. It was like mud at first. Kei tried to clean it from his hands, from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he kept sinking deeper and deeper.

Yamaguchi has surely noticed it too. It would be impossible not to. And he doesn't seem to mind. It's almost like he basks in the opportunities to heighten it, always hooking his chin over Kei's shoulder or wrapping his arms around his neck or high-fiving him after a particularly good play. For all its added heaviness, it makes Kei feel all the happier. Bubbles sprout to life in his stomach when his best friend grins or leans into his personal space. So surely it can't be a bad thing.

Yamaguchi blinks up at him, his eyes wide. He’s worrying his lip between his teeth. Kei wants to grab it between two fingers and roll it around. Does it feel the same as his own? He wants to run careful experiments with his fingers, skimming everywhere Yamaguchi will allow him. 

“Tsukki?” Kei blinks once, hard. He’s pretty sure he knows what the question is. His fingers stretch and clench themselves into a first. He uncurls them and hovers his hand over Yamaguchi’s, which are clasped over his stomach. 

His longest (closest) (most treasured) friend (the one who understands him better than he understands himself) raises his hand to meet Kei’s own, their palms lying flat against each other. Yamaguchi’s fingers are slimmer than his own, but almost as long. His skin is much tanner. It complements his skin tone well. They look like a matched set. 

The bubbles in Kei’s stomach are popping rapidly. He stares at the two hands and wonders if Yamaguchi knows how beautiful he is, even down to his fingertips. He is suddenly struck by the need to ensure that Yamaguchi knows this. 

Yamaguchi enlaces their fingers together. His thumb strokes Kei’s in the same circular gesture that he was tracing earlier on his back. Kei’s cheeks flare red. Warmth radiates off of him in waves, so strong he’s sure his best friend can feel it given that only a foot or so separates their faces. 

The same need from before surges up his spine. Kei gives in and brings their hands to his mouth, kissing Yamaguchi’s fingertips. His best friend squeaks. His face is bright red, making his freckles stand out less. His mouth is parted slightly, slight puffs of breath filling the air between them with even more weight. Kei wants to swallow each exhale and add it to the collection of comfortable tension that resides in his chest, all thanks to Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi sits up but doesn’t untangle their hands. Not that Kei would let him if he tried. They finish the documentary, resuming their natural give-and-take commentary after ten minutes of silence. Everything is almost the same, except the air pressure feels too high.

They don’t talk about it then. They don’t need to. One day, they will, but for now, Kei will enjoy the warm weight of Yamaguchi’s hand in his own.


End file.
